


Submission

by morgan_cian



Series: Story Snippets [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:59:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan_cian/pseuds/morgan_cian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exploration of dominance and submission</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submission

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a small idea that I wanted to get down. Probably still needs fleshing out, it is kind of rough.

Ryan Davenport gripped the steering wheel and checked the address once more. The small fairy like cottage sat almost secluded from its neighbors, a tree line to the east, a well maintained picket fence to the west, and yards of emerald green lawn stretched from the road to the front porch. The grass was plush and thick, a soft carpet that he ached to sink his bare toes into even though the seasons were changing from the brutal heat of summer to the sweet cool caress of autumn.

He was in the right place. The butterflies in his stomach swarmed once more. Taking a deep breath, he fumbled for his cell phone, pressing the speed dial for his lover.

“Hey baby,” Jake’s warm voice washed over him and soothed him, “everything okay? You didn’t get lost?”

Rolling his eyes, Ryan chuckled nervously, “No, I’m here. I just…” His heart decided to join the butterflies and thump painfully in his chest.

“You can come home,” Jake said seriously, “No harm, no foul.”

Jake loved him, no matter what and it calmed. “I’ll be okay,” Ryan said hoarsely, “I just needed to hear you.”

A rumble of understanding eased Ryan even more. “Call me soon, baby.”

“I will.”

“I love you, Ryan.”

Gulping, Ryan stumbled, “And I you.”

Those three words had caused him too much pain in his twenty-three years. Jake understood why he couldn’t say it but it did not stop him from expressing the heartfelt declaration. They exchanged farewells and Ryan closed the phone, gripping it when it slipped from his sweaty fingertips.

It was now or never. Driving his Jeep down the white rock drive, he studied the small house once more. It was painted a warm yellow, with white shutters and trim. He switched off the ignition and tried to regulate his breathing. His bag sitting in the passenger seat unnerved him, did he take it in, did he leave it behind? Was he getting his hopes up? Was he going to be crushed? If he didn’t stop he was going to puke.

Leaving the bag behind with his hands pushed in his pockets, he walked up the stepping stone path to the porch. Whiskey barrels with thick green plants trailing in the breeze were sitting like guards on each side of the steps. Before he could step up to the door, it opened.

Disjointed imagery of a soft flowered skirt, bare feet, wooden bracelets, beads, the gentle curve of breast, slender throat, bound wavy dark hair, and gentle blue eyes flashed before his eyes.

“You must be Ryan,” the soft, low voice made his stomach cramp, “Welcome.” Slim fingers reached out and took his sweaty hand, petting it and cradling in a hand that was much too small. “Do come in.”

“Ma’am,” he choked out. The thumb moved in soothing motions across his skin, back and forth, back and forth.

“For now, call me Savannah and come in,” she smiled and gave him a gentle tug.

Ryan felt large, uncomfortable, and clumsy in such a tiny space. The small foyer led to a rustic sitting room complete with hearth and exposed beams. Savannah had him sit on the dainty couch before disappearing into a room passed the staircase. He could hear the clatter of crockery and cutlery.

His legs were bouncing, trapped, too long to extend, too cramped to be comfortable. A gentle hand to his shoulder almost made him jump out of his skin.

“Relax,” the tone was still soft but firm. She sat next to him in a wooden rocking chair that creaked and popped. “Would you care for some tea?”

Ryan licked his dry lips and nodded. It felt warm in his hand, the fragrant steam soothing as he sipped. His shoulders loosened and he sat back on the sofa. She was such a small thing, the cottage fit her.

Thoughts bounced wildly in his head even as his body relaxed. This was folly, he should make his apologies and beat feet until he was back in Jake’s arms. The cup rattled as his hands shook.

The small hands eased the cup and saucer from his grasp, sitting it aside before returning to hold them within the cradle of soft, warm flesh.

“It is okay,” Savannah smiled, the soothing circles of her thumbs moving over his trembling hands returned, “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

The madness had begun through research on the internet. Jake had been his friend, lover, mentor, and partner from the time he was eighteen lost and alone in an unknown city. Ryan had heard about it through friends and began looking deeper. Checklists, inventories, phone calls had revealed a surprise. Jake merely kissed him and told him it would be okay, if it did not suit him that was natural and they would look elsewhere. Another of Jake’s friends had put him on the path that led him here.

It was as far from the stereotypes online as it could get. He had communicated with Savannah via email and long letters that had turned to shy phone calls and instant messaging. Looking around once more, the technology seemed so out of place.

“Are you ready now?” Her voice brought him out of his rambling thoughts.

“Yes, ma’am,” He said, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

One of her hands left his to move to his cheek, the same caress of her thumb moved steadily over his cheekbone.

“Do you remember the steps that we agreed to?” Her hand moved to his chin and cupped it.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan fought the urge to squirm and look away. The gentle blue eyes seemed to look through him, into him, and lay him bare.

Her hand moved once more to brush his hair from his forehead, “Upstairs, the first door to your left, five minutes.”

Gulping he felt bereft when she released him. Savannah sat back in her rocking chair, the chair creaking and popping as it moved to and fro. She sipped her tea while looking out the window into what looked like a garden. The dismissal was gentle but still a dismissal.

“You only have five minutes, Ryan.” Again her firm voice broke through his busy thoughts. He stumbled up the stairs, cursing his large feet silently. He found the room easily enough. It, like her, was nothing as he expected.

Unbuttoning his shirt and folding it neatly, he toed off his shoes. Looking around, he pushed them under the edge of the four poster bed with its comfortable looking pillows and quilt. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his jeans down and folded it as well. His clothes, including his socks but minus his boxers sat in a neat pile on the bed. A bit unsure, he knelt facing the doorway, his weight resting on his heels, his back straight, his hands resting loosely on his thighs.

“Good boy,” Her voice washed over his skin, making him shudder. Her fingers moved through his hair. A soft press of lips touched his forehead.

She talked to him, the same low, firm tone of voice, explaining each step. She told him of the cuffs that were wrapped around his wrists and moved to the small of his back, the chain between them allowing his shoulders to relax with little strain. The blindfold that went over his eyes was soft even as it took his eyesight away.

Her voice led him deeper and deeper into his mind, her hands trailing over his shoulders and neck, in his hair anchored him. Ryan was barely aware of the plugs that were pressed into his ears, taking away all sound. He twitched and became unnerved. The soft hands returned and soothed.

Disjointed thoughts of panic turned to loosely gathered images and memories. Flashes of painful memories mixed with memories of smells, his mother’s death, cookies being taken from the oven, his father’s rage, the smell of sandalwood, the taste of Jake’s mouth against his own. The feel of soft feather bed and cool sheets that he and Jake shared.

The touch to his face had him pressing into the soft hand. Slowly sounds began to emerge the sound of strings and pipes, the smell of vanilla and chamomile in the air. A warm breath against his ear told him to close his eyes. A random thought argued that they were closed. The sound of amusement made him aware that he must have spoken aloud.

Gentle hands gripped his elbows; a firm voice ordered him to lean forward. He moaned when the circulation began flowing in his legs once more. He focused on the hands leading and guiding him, felt the soft, cool fabric against the backs of his legs and then along his side as he was moved onto his side, his legs following, stretching almost like a cat.

The gentle hold on his wrists disappeared and the hand to his hair returned. The voice coaxed him up until his eyes fluttered open. Soft blue eyes and the gentle curve of lips was the first thing he became aware of. Then he realized the bedroom was bathed in soft shadow of the sun going down.

“Welcome back,” Savannah remarked quietly.

He licked his dry lips and tried to speak but she merely shushed him with a smile. She sat beside him talking to him until the randomness of thoughts gained coherency and he was able to respond. She asked him about how his job was going, about Jake, upcoming plans.

Ryan answered everything honestly; the fuzziness stripped away avoidance and redirection. When she said to follow, he felt the languid pull of muscle as he moved gracefully behind her, giving no thought of being vulnerable in his boxers in a strange place.

She had him sit at the small table. Moving about the kitchen, Savannah kept her voice low and her touch returned over and over again, to his hair, to his shoulders, a soft brush of lips against his forehead. He blinked when she sat a simple sandwich and cool glass of apple juice in front him.

The food was good, an explosion of taste that made him moan in appreciation. With the meal was cleared away, she sat in the rocker once more. The feeling of sitting at her feet with her hand in his hair was as natural as breathing.

“So tell me about what you felt, your thoughts as your senses were restricted.” Savannah asked.

As reality sunk in once more, his answers were shy and hesitant. She never raised her voice and her praised soothed. The repeated ‘good boy,’ made him warm and happy. When she asked if he was going to stay, he said yes.

“Go on up and get ready for bed, the room we were in is yours.” She smiled at his flicker of surprise. “Call Jake and then go to bed and get some rest, we start very early in the morning.”

When he went back up the stairs, he felt more centered, more relaxed. He curled in the bed and talked to Jake, barely aware when she slipped into his room and placed his bag on the bureau.

“How was it?” Jake asked.

“Nothing like what I thought and more than I could have ever dreamed,” Ryan replied with a sigh.

Jake chuckled and it made him smile. “So you will be home on Sunday.”

Ryan yawned widely, the fuzziness turning to lethargy. “Yeah, but I will call you some more.”

“I will be here, baby. Sleep well.”

As he curled under the soft quilt and sheets, Ryan thought about what had happened. He never thought dominance and submission could be like this. He had naively thought it was about pain, humiliation, sex, and degradation.

Savannah had shown him it was about trust and communication. They would go further but it would never be about sex. Ryan loved Jake but he ached to give up control. Savannah provided him a haven to submit and to follow.

When he returned home, she sent him more information to read, things for him to talk about with Jake, and assignments to reflect on. Jake merely held him and let him pour out his thoughts and his experiences.

“Are you okay with it?” Ryan asked shyly. Jake just smiled and pulled him into a kiss.

“Whatever makes you happy, baby, makes me happy,” Jake’s thumb caressed his cheekbone. It made him feel warm and calm. “I can already see the differences; you are more relaxed and centered.”

“Even if it is a girl?” Ryan asked with a scrunch of his nose.

Jake laughed outright, “Yes, baby, even if it is a girl.”

Ryan smiled and curled into his lover’s arms. It had not changed; he still had Jake’s love and support. He had Savannah as well. It could not get any better than that.


End file.
